


Enzian, Sleep Deprivation and How They Go Together

by elebridith



Series: Face Value [15]
Category: Angel: the Series, Leverage
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10972545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elebridith/pseuds/elebridith
Summary: Eliot is tired. Lindsey is drunk. Guess how that works out.





	Enzian, Sleep Deprivation and How They Go Together

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set in the Face Value!verse, around 22 months after Face Value.  
> Minor appearances by Sophie, Nate and Parker.  
> Enzian is a liquor, strong and a little bitter. Has about 38 % alcohol (Jack Daniels has 40 %) and is said to help if you have an upset stomach. Tried it once. Eeeeevil stuff!!!  
> Originally written for merry_gentry's prompt "Drunken making out" over at comment_fic on LiveJournal. Now fleshed out.  
> Beta'd by rocketpool.

Eliot tried to stifle a yawn. His plane had just landed, and he was heading for the baggage claim when his cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID and frowned, quickly taking the call. "Hardison? What's goin' on, man? I just got off the plane!"

"Yeah man, I'm sorry. It's kinda, well, um..." Hardison actually sounded apologetic, but he hesitated before blurting out "Can you, uh, drop by on your way home?"

Eliot narrowed his eyes at the clearly uncomfortable tone of Hardison's voice. _No babbling?_ Alarm bells started to ring in his head. He tried to keep his reflexive annoyance out of his voice, with minimal success. "Hardison? What's wrong?"

Hardison sounded like this was a call he really didn't want to make. "Not exactly wrong, but..."

There was a slight pause, and Eliot's mood switched from exhausted grumpiness to open anger. He growled into the phone. "Hardison? Waiting."

He was answered by a sigh. "Uh... you'll have to pick up Lindsey from the office."

Eliot's stomach dropped as a dozen unpleasant scenarios flashed through his mind. His anger died down while concern took its place. "Lindsey? What happened? Did it get worse? Is he okay?"

Hardison seemed to force cheerfulness into his voice. "Oh, don't worry, he's okay. No need to kill anyone." The accompanying laugh sounded far from natural, and Eliot gritted his teeth. "He's just, um, drunk. Just passed out on the couch, actually. After he sang about twenty verses of _Home on the Range_ on the way here."

Anger raised its head again. Eliot lowered the phone away from his ear and stared at it. _Lindsey should have been in bed. Or at least still resting. What the..._ He quickly developed an urge to strangle either Hardison for his cheerful tone or Nate for being reckless. _Or both. If Nate is responsible for this, then God help him._ "I'll be there as fast as I can," he snapped and hung up the phone before Hardison could say anything more.

The drive home seemed endless. Eliot forced himself to smile politely at the poor cab driver, who obviously caught onto his mood and gave him a nervous look every time the traffic got stuck. Eliot clenched his fists. _If I had known that this freaking job couldn't wait another day, I'd never taken a side job. What part of 'Lindsey's sick, wait til I get back if you need another person' did Nate not get?_

By the time the cab pulled up at headquarters, Eliot was seething. He barely remembered to tip the driver, and then stormed into the office, right into Nate's room. Where he found Lindsey, sound asleep on the couch, and Parker, adjusting his blanket. But no Nate. Eliot strode out again, ignoring Parker's curious glance. Hardison peeked out of his door. "Heyyyy Eliot. Cavalry to the rescue, awesome, could you maybe, uh, not kill our fearless leader?" His smile was wide and so fake that it almost hurt to watch. Eliot threw him a threatening glare to cut off any more rambling, although it was more out of habit. Hardison seemed to sense that he wasn't in immediate danger of being eviscerated, so he just chuckled and retreated back to his laptop.

Eliot rolled his eyes, but felt a little calmer. _So it was Nate's fault. I wonder what kind of excuse_ _he'll c_ _ome up with._ Eliot walked towards the conference room, but stopped when Sophie called out to him. He looked at her and just raised an eyebrow. Sophie stepped out of her room and pointed in the direction of the conference room. "I don't think he realized what Lindsey got himself into..." She shrugged, looking a little helpless.

Eliot snorted. "You don't say." He gave her a small smile to soften his sarcastic tone, and she smiled back. Eliot opened the door and entered the conference room. Nate looked up with a bland smile. "Hello, Eliot. Have a good flight?"

Eliot stared at Nate, not willing to engage the subject. Instead he let a good deal of anger seep into his voice and ignored the question completely. "Nate, ya better give me one. Good. Reason." He put his hands on Nate's desk and leaned forward, dropping the temperature of his voice to icy. "Just one reason why the fuck you send someone, who was down with a stomach bug for a whole week, on a job where he gets to drink?" Eliot pointed vaguely in the direction of Nate's office and threw a half-angry, half-concerned look over his shoulder before turning back his attention to Nate.

Nate took a deep breath and answered Eliot's glare with an infuriatingly calm look. He straightened and started to speak before Eliot could continue. "Eliot. Lindsey showed up here, said he felt okay and that he was bored." Nate grinned. "You of all people should know how... persistent he can be when he wants to do something."

Eliot could picture the scene exactly in his head. He huffed out a hesitant laugh, anger fading slowly. "Pain in the ass. You can say it, Nate." He grinned, anger subsiding. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. But..." He shook his head. "Being bored ain't a good reason to risk somethin' like this. You should've pulled him out as soon as the distraction included... whatever knocked him out."

Nate sighed, looking slightly exasperated. Eliot grinned inwardly. _You got the same sermon from Sophie already, right?_ He raised his eyebrows at Nate, saying nothing. Nate sighed again, this time more conceding.

"Yeah. Maybe I should have. Honestly? Do you remember our mark?" Eliot nodded, and Nate chuckled. "His mother hosted the party, and we needed to distract her."

"Ah." Eliot realized now where this was going. Nate smiled.

"Yeah. Lindsey's simply the best when it comes to sweet-talking to older ladies, and she was no exception. She just loved him. I heard them talking over the ear buds, and I didn't realize that they were drinking strong liquor until... well." He gestured wordlessly over to his office. "We brought him here because he would've been alone at your place."

Eliot frowned. "You couldn't hear them ordering?"

Nate shook his head. "I heard Lindsey telling her that he'd been sick, and she said that she had just the right thing for that. Lots of herbs. And then she grabbed a bottle and poured." Nate made a face. "She didn't say that it was Enzian until later."

Eliot's eyes widened. "Enzian? He had shots of Enzian? How many?"

Nate shrugged. "Don't know exactly."

Eliot groaned and rubbed his temples. "Shit. On an empty stomach, too. Might as well have downed whiskey. Great." He looked up. "I'll take him home. Don't expect us tomorrow." He glared at Nate, just in case, but not really expecting a protest.

Nate just nodded. "Yeah. I really should've said no, but..."

Eliot sighed. "I know."

***

Thankfully Lindsey was more or less asleep during the cab-ride home. The promise of a generous tip convinced the driver to get the elevator and carry Eliot's bags into it while Eliot hauled a drowsy Lindsey out of the cab. "Come on, Linds. Almost there." Eliot reluctantly let go of Lindsey's arm and watched him closely, ready to grab him again if necessary. But the cold rush of air outside the cab seemed to wake Lindsey up a little. He even managed to stand on his own feet without help. Lindsey looked around, a little puzzled at first, but then focused on the face next to him. He studied Eliot's face with almost comical intensity and began to grin happily.

"'liot. Hello darlin', long time no see!" He made a move forward, clearly intending to give Eliot a hug. Even more clearly, his feet didn't get the message. Eliot had to grab Lindsey's shoulders quickly as Lindsey made a surprised noise and lost the little balance he had. One of Eliot's death glares stopped the cab driver from grinning, and, after paying him off, Eliot managed to drag Lindsey into the elevator.

Eliot pulled in the bag that had held the elevator door open and pressed the button for his floor with a relieved sigh. When the elevator stopped, Eliot pulled Lindsey out of the cabin and maneuvered him to a spot where Lindsey could lean on the wall if necessary, but not reach elevator buttons. Eliot gave Lindsey a sharp glare. "You stay where you are 'til I come and get ya. Got it?" Lindsey nodded eagerly, and Eliot blocked the elevator door again and pulled the bags out as fast as possible. He opened their door and just threw the bags inside, then jogged back to the elevator.

Lindsey hadn't moved at all, and judging by the goofy smile he greeted Eliot with, he was very proud of that. Eliot had to grin. _You're kinda adorable this drunk. Wait until you hear about it._ He wrapped his arm around Lindsey's waist. "C'mon, let's get inside."

He managed to get Lindsey to their living room and into a chair without any incidents. After Lindsey dropped into the seat, Eliot stretched his back, stifled a yawn and then studied Lindsey's face, still a little worried. "Linds? How ya feelin'?"

Lindsey blinked, pondered the thought for a moment and then smiled brightly. "'m good. How's you?" He tilted his head and looked curious.

Eliot had to grin despite his concern. "Yeah. I'm good too. So you're not gonna throw up on me? That's one thing. Stay there, I'll get ya some toast and something to drink." He saw Lindsey's eyes light up and shook his head. "No. Not what you think." He went over to the kitchen and quickly mixed some apple juice with water in a nice big glass. He grabbed two slices of toast and made a mental note to buy something with electrolytes first thing in the morning.

Eliot returned and placed the glass and the toast on the side table. Lindsey took a look and made a face. Eliot scowled. "Gettin' all cute'n'pout-y on me ain't gonna help ya any. You'll thank me in the morning. Dehydration's a bitch. Now drink."

Lindsey's eyes widened at the firm tone of Eliot's voice and he clumsily grabbed the glass. When Eliot was sure that Lindsey was really drinking, he grabbed his bags and pulled them into the bedroom. With a quick peek in the living room he made sure that Lindsey didn't fall off his chair and decided that he could risk a quick trip to the bathroom. When he returned, he saw that Lindsey had dutifully finished all of the juice, eaten a slice of toast, and then dozed off. He chuckled to himself, put a hand on Lindsey's shoulder and shook him gently. "Linds? Come on. Best you sleep this off, huh? Let's get you to bed."

Lindsey managed to stand up on his own. He tilted his head, looked at Eliot and grinned broadly. "Bed? Huh. Good plan. Smart." His words were still a barely understandable slurry drawl and Eliot resignedly shook his head.

"Sheesh. Thought you were smart enough to keep away--" He broke the sentence off as Lindsey reached out and petted his hair.

"Pretty. Pretty hair." Lindsey grinned even broader, looking like he had just discovered a treasure.

Eliot closed his eyes for a moment and sighed inwardly. Concern was now mixed with a hint of impatience. "Linds? Sleep. Now. I'm fuckin' tired. And you need to sober up. That works best if we both sleep. Now, can you walk to the bedroom or do I have to carry you?"

The words were out before he realized that this might not have been the best way of phrasing it. Lindsey beamed and made a delighted and slightly silly-sounding noise. Eliot took a step back and raised his hands. "Oh no, Lindsey. I ain't gonna..."

He didn't get further. Lindsey threw his arms around Eliot's neck and hopped into his arms, wrapping his legs around Eliot's waist. Eliot reflexively grabbed him, but almost lost his balance in the process. He stumbled a few steps backwards before he caught himself again. He groaned. "Linds, baby, this is ridiculous. Get down. Now."

Lindsey pouted. "No. You said carry." He burrowed his face in Eliot's hair and clung even tighter. Eliot could swear that he heard him mumble something that sounded like "meanie". Eliot exhaled slowly and decided not to get into an argument. He staggered to the bedroom and dropped his human load quite unceremoniously on the bed.

"There. Happy now?" It earned him another wide grin and a nod. He had to chuckle. "Well, thank God. Now, get outta those clothes. You ain't gonna sleep in those." He waited until Lindsey reluctantly began to fumble with his shirt, and then quickly pulled off his own shirt and stripped down to his boxers.

Despite his exhaustion he was silently amused by the frustrated whiny noises Lindsey made while he was fighting with his shirt buttons. And he had to chuckle at the triumphant noise that announced Lindsey's success. Eliot threw his own clothes on the chair next to him, feeling too tired to do anything else. _I'll_ _just throw them in the hamper tomorrow._ He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and the bed creaked a little, which told him that Lindsey was making himself comfortable.

Eliot turned around to check. Lindsey had indeed taken off his shirt completely. He also had managed to get rid of his boots, but seemed to have forgotten about his jeans. Instead he had spread himself out on the bed and propped himself up on his elbows. He followed Eliot's movements with an earnest look of concentration that, sober, he might make at a good documentary on TV. Eliot sighed and flopped down on the bed next to Lindsey. _Well then, sleep in your jeans. I don't care._ He noticed that Lindsey was still looking at him and gave him a questioning look. "Linds? What is it?"

Lindsey stared at him and scrunched his nose. "Ya have to fix the bed. 's broken. 's movin' around when I close my eyes. That's wrong."

Eliot had to stifle a laugh. He nodded and tried to mimic Lindsey's completely serious tone of voice. "Sure. I'll do it first thing in the morning, 'kay?"

Lindsey nodded hesitantly and opened his mouth. But instead of words a hiccups came out, followed by a giggle. Eliot closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, not knowing if he should laugh or hide under the pillow. _Giggle. Just great. Alcohol on empty stomach plus antibiotics equals giggly Lindsey. Good to kno_ _w._ He decided to be amused by it and opened his eyes again, just in time to see a movement to his left. Eliot barely had time to turn his head before a surprisingly fast Lindsey threw himself on top of him. Before he could make a move or protest Lindsey ran his fingers through Eliot's hair and made an approving noise.

"Pretty."

Eliot sighed, still amused but also slightly desperate. "Yeah. Said that already."

Lindsey nodded enthusiastically. "Pretty. Pretty Eliot." He lowered his head and began to nuzzle Eliot's neck.

Eliot groaned. His body slowly began to react to the nearness of Lindsey's body and to the hands that began to wander over his naked chest. Nevertheless, he was still struggling with hours of sleep deprivation. Given the choice between making out with a very drunk and giggly Lindsey and the tempting comfort of pillows and a sheet, his head tended to chose the pillows. Despite the really nice warm shivers that went through his body.

He put his hands gently on Lindsey's arms. "Linds... uhh... really appreciate the idea, but..." The sentence ended in a moan as Lindsey's mouth found the base of his throat and sucked gently. Eliot let his hands fall back on the bed. He half-heartedly cursed the fact that Lindsey did not remember that it absolutely wasn't allowed to call Eliot pretty, but could still find all of Eliot's surefire sensitive spots even drunk off his ass.

Lindsey lifted his head, looking very pleased with the result of his actions. He gave Eliot a smug smile and nuzzled his neck again. "Mmmh. Ya smell good." He licked the side of Eliot's neck and Eliot had to laugh.

"Nah. Spent a bunch of hours at airports an' in a crammed plane. Sure as shit don't smell like roses."

He moaned again as Lindsey wriggled his hips. He could obviously feel Eliot's cock starting to swell, because the smug smile on his face widened. Lindsey's hands started wandering over Eliot's body again and he began kissing his jaw.

Eliot let his head fall to the side, giving Lindsey better access. The idea of sleeping was rapidly losing its appeal. Lindsey had now practically melted all over him and seemed determined to pet and caress every inch of skin that he could reach. Lindsey's movements were a lot clumsier than usual, but since he made sure to put some delicious pressure to Eliot's slowly hardening cock Eliot really didn't mind.

"Mmh. Comfy."

 _What?_ Eliot blinked as Lindsey's voice purred in his ear. Through the hazed mix of arousal and sleepiness he tried to process what he had just heard. _Comfy...?_ He realized that Lindsey's hands had stopped moving. And not only that: Lindsey's whole body had gone from "pleasantly pliant and mellow" to "dead weight". Eliot lifted his head a little, took a look at Lindsey's face and let out a frustrated groan. "You gotta be kiddin' me."

Eliot knew now that "comfy" was a word he never wanted to hear again while making out with his boyfriend. Ever again. Because it meant that Lindsey fell asleep the moment after mumbling it. Eliot groaned again and repeated, "You gotta be kiddin' me!" a little louder, but Lindsey slept on, face snuggled against Eliots shoulder, snoring softly, and blissfully unaware of Eliot's frustration.

Eliot exhaled forcefully before he wriggled himself free and pushed Lindsey to his side of the bed. Narrowing his eyes, Eliot briefly considered petty revenge by pillow-stealing, but then he sighed and got up. _Tomorrow you'll have one hell of a hangover. An' adding a stiff neck from sleepin' without pillow would make it_ _worse._ _For both of us_ _._ Eliot padded around the bed, pulled Lindsey completely on the right half (maybe with just a little more force than necessary) and pulled the sheets over him. After making sure that there was enough water on the bedside table he slid under his own sheets. Sleep deprivation and exhaustion now came back with a vengeance. _Wait 'til I tell ya tomorrow that you called me pretty._ With this satisfying thought Eliot curled up and fell asleep immediately.

***

Lindsey slowly fought his way back into consciousness. Keeping his eyes closed for the moment, he tried to remember what had happened and why his head felt about double the size. Then he remembered. _Job. Distraction. Drinks. Oh shit._ He opened his eyes a little bit and groaned as a bright ray of sunshine hit him and cut straight through his eyes into his brain. "OW!"

"Morning sunshine!"

Lindsey pressed his eyes shut again. _Sheesh. Can ya talk a little louder, Eliot? My brain hasn't exploded yet, and they didn't hear ya in Texas!_ He blinked and tried to get the face in front of him into focus. "Eliot? Turn off the lights, will ya? Too bright!" He knew he sounded whiny, but couldn't help it. He heard Eliot snicker.

"That's the sun, Linds. It is that bright."

Lindsey buried his face in the pillow. "Don' care. Turn it off!" His voice was muffled by the pillow, and he could hear another chuckle that was followed, mercifully, by the sound of closing drapes. He lifted his head and tried opening his eyes again. _Much better._ He sighed with relief.

"How ya feelin'?"

 _Wow, Eliot, can you be a little more cheerful?_ Lindsey groaned. _How can he be so fuckin' awake? Oh, right. He wasn't there._ Lindsey blinked owlishly at Eliot. "Like shit warmed over." He rubbed his temples.

Eliot chuckled and dropped on the bed next to him. "Woke up losin'?"

Lindsey detected a little concern in Eliot's voice. He sighed. "Ya could say that. What the fuck happened?"

Eliot tilted his head. "What do you remember?"

Frowning, Lindsey tried to sit up. _Whoa, wrong move._ The world began to spin and his hand flew up to his mouth as his stomach did a roll and threatened to turn over completely. A few dry heaves shook his body, but finally the urge to vomit ebbed off, and Lindsey took a few deep breaths. He blinked a few times and then felt Eliot's hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles.

"Take it slow, Linds. Breathe." Eliot's hand continued the movement and Lindsey could feel the nausea slowly fading. Eliot studied his face, looking concerned despite his still-apparent amusement. "Better?"

Lindsey nodded and tried to sit up more carefully this time. The world still spun a little but his stomach behaved. For now.

"Gonna make ya some tea. Relax." Eliot stood up and left for the kitchen. Lindsey leaned back, closing his eyes. He must have dozed off a little, because the next thing he felt was a gentle nudge on his shoulder.

"Hey. Here, drink this."

Lindsey took the steaming mug and sniffed it suspiciously. "What is it?"

Eliot sat down on the bed again. "Fresh ginger tea. Calms an upset stomach." He shook his head while Lindsey slowly sipped the hot liquid without protesting. "I still can't believe you didn't throw up that shit up as soon as you downed it. Enzian is..." He broke off the sentence and stared at Lindsey, narrowing his eyes. "Unless..." He huffed out a sudden laugh. "Of course. You took the anti-emetics, right? " Eliot grinned at the slightly guilty look on Lindsey's face. "Gotcha. Now, tell me what ya remember and I'll fill in the rest."

Lindsey sighed and took a big gulp. "Well, I was bored. And I really did feel better. So yeah, took those pills, thought I didn't wanna throw up as soon as someone offers me a snack or somethin'." He shrugged. "I try to distract this lady, sweet talkin' and all. She offers me a drink, an' I say no thanks, I've been sick."

"Lemme guess." Eliot tilted his head. "Ya used your charming apologizing smile on her and she gets out the Enzian."

Lindsey hissed softly at the memory. "Yeah. Called me dearie. Told me she has just the right stuff for that. An' I think hey, it's herbal, how strong can it be?” He laughed a little. “Boy, was I wrong. Funny enough, it actually helped. Well, at first." He shuddered.

Eliot laughed out. "An' just how many did ya have?"

Lindsey flinched. "I... don't know exactly. I tried to cheat by taking just sips, but she caught me. She refilled a few times before I finished the first glass, and after that… uhhh... four altogether, maybe?"

"Y'know..." Eliot closed his eyes and shook his head again. "It would've been better if ya hadn't taken those pills. Would've just..." He motioned with his hands and grinned again. "Remember anything after that?"

Lindsey bit his lower lip and shook his head, wincing as the throbbing increased. "Not much. Remember Hardison dragging me in the car an' you getting' me out of a cab. Apart from that... not sure." He looked at Eliot, a confused expression on his face. "I mean, I remember things, but I'd really prefer to think..." His eyes widened at the smug grin that was now spreading over Eliot's face. "Oh shit. Please tell me I didn't..."

Eliot chuckled. "First thing you do tomorrow is apologize to Hardison. You sang about twenty verses of _Home On the Range_ on the way to the office. And about five more before you passed out on the couch."

Lindsey frowned. "There ain't twenty verses of _Home On the Range_. He's... exaggerating."

"Sorry, no." Eliot shook his head. "I went an' saw the vids this morning while you were still out of it. Audio feed from the car and security vids from the office. Twenty-five. Off-key. And some of them quite... creative."

Lindsey's jaw dropped. He even forgot his headache for a moment. "Video? There's a video?" He groaned pitifully. "Of course there is. Fuckin' security feed." He looked up and narrowed his eyes at the almost gleeful grin on Eliot's face. "That's... not all, is it? I know that look." He rubbed his temples, trying to ignore throbbing headache. "Come on, spill it."

Eliot smirked. "Well. First you jumped into my arms and I had to carry you to bed. Was my own fault, though." He snorted. "I forgot you don't get rhetorical questions when you're drunk."

Lindsey closed his eyes. _Got carried to the bed. Okay. I can deal with that._ He opened his eyes again. "Did you say 'first'?"

"It gets better." Eliot now looked openly smug at Lindsey's obvious discomfort. "You started makin' out with me."

"And that's bad why...?" Lindsey stared at him. He had the very distinctive feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer.

Eliot crinkled his nose. "Ya fell asleep in the middle of it. On top of me." His smile disappeared and he gave Lindsey an icy glare. "After you pet my hair and called me pretty."

Lindsey choked on the rest of his tea. His face went pale. "No!" He stared at Eliot with a pleading look, but only got pointedly raised eyebrows as an answer. He made a whimpering sound. "Can I plead legal insanity?"

"No."

Lindsey cringed at the stern look on Eliot's face. "So you're going to kill me, right? Slowly and painfully?"

Eliot tilted his head and looked like he was actually considering it. "I thought about that, yeah." He managed to maintain his growly face for a few seconds longer before his lips began to twitch. "But ya know, bloodstains are always a bitch to get out. And... " He huffed. "It was... funny. Kind of. Not then, but..." He grinned. "Now."

Letting out a mock-relieved sigh, Lindsey dropped back on his pillow and started to laugh. Which made the throbbing headache come back with a vengeance. "Ouch. Fuckin' headache." He rubbed his temples and looked ruefully at Eliot. "I'll make it up to you. As soon as... ouch." Another flare of pain went through his head and he moaned a bit.

Eliot leaned forward, lifted him up a bit and started rubbing Lindsey's neck in slow circles. He laughed softly. "I'll take a rain check on the making up thing. For when you're up on your feet again. Now, try to get some more sleep."

He stood up. Lindsey closed his eyes, already feeling sleepy again now that the headache had faded away a bit. "I swear I'll never touch that stuff again," he mumbled, already slurring the words. He could hear Eliot chuckle.

"Yeah, that'd be good. At least not in this particular combination. Sleep now. I'll be back soon, and then you can try some food, okay?"

Lindsey made a small appreciative noise, yawned and opened his eyes again just a bit. "M-hm. Where ya goin'?"

Eliot picked up his jacket. "Headquarters. Hardison promised to make me a copy of that video."

"Uh-huh." Lindsey curled up under the sheet and closed his eyes again. It was only when he heard the front door click that Eliot's last words truly registered in his hazy brain. _Video? He gets the..._ His eyes flew open again and he bolted upright. "Eliot? Come back! …Eliot?"

Silence. He groaned. _Twenty-five verses. Creative. I'm so fucked. No way I can nab it from him._ He closed his eyes again with a resigned sigh.

_I wonder what it'll take to_ _persuade_ _Hardison to_ _find and_ _destroy_ _every trace of it_ _. Guess I have to do the action figure cleaning for real this time._


End file.
